


Letting go

by Lily_Amazon



Series: Sparks (WBP oneshots) [3]
Category: One Piece
Genre: Brotherly Love, Character Study, Communication, Drowning, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Gen, Music, Nakamaship, Storm - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-30
Updated: 2020-10-30
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:07:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27272401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lily_Amazon/pseuds/Lily_Amazon
Summary: "It was like a tide, the ebb and flow of the sea, of life, that kept growing toward a liberatingcrescendo."Haruta drowns and memories resurface.
Relationships: Haruta & Izo (One Piece), Haruta & Whitebeard Pirates
Series: Sparks (WBP oneshots) [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1928929
Comments: 4
Kudos: 9





	Letting go

**Author's Note:**

> _Soundtrack:[Nina Simone - I think it's gonna rain today](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kSYgoC_Dgw4) & [The Gloaming - The Sailor's Bonnet](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JOAaJoZyg1I) _

For the third day in a row an unrelenting storm was striking the Moby Dick. The bright blue sky they had been sailing under was now all but a dream, hidden by monstrous grey clouds. Strikes of lightning were joining the roaring thunder, setting an occasional light on what was happening on deck. Sailors were coming and going, a rope around them, to check on some barrels' stowage and to make sure all the sails were perfectly rolled up. Some were also climbing the masts to take over from the look-out standing ground in the various crow's nests.

They hadn't faced such a fierce tempest in months but the experience of the World's Strongest Man's crew was making a huge difference. They were used to deal with the unpredictable. And thanks to the habits and rules ingrained in them since their first day on board, both the ship and the men were only sporting minor damages.

The strong winds swept the rain away, intensifying the sickening and uncontrollable swaying of the ship. "Joys of the New World!" Whitebeard rumbled along with a laugh. His comment was met with a few snorts. As usual in those cases, all the devil fruit's users had been reduced to the inside of the ship to avoid any problem, and all the pirates that weren't busy or resting had gathered in the galley. There, most of the fourth division along with Jill and her nurses were providing their brothers with what they needed, be it hot food and drinks, dry clothes and blankets or first aid. Rope burns and blisters were a bitch.

On top of that, Haruta and some members of his division were playing music. Many sailors were singing or playing cards in order to pass the time and divert their minds before the next shift.

Ace was discovering all this with delight, basking in this strange atmosphere of slackening. It was a well-oiled strategy that had been proven efficient over the years. Or at least that was what the commanders had said when he wondered.

A bell rang somewhere, relayed all over the ship through the snails-speakers. The music and games stopped as Marco and Izo came into the galley, papers in hand. "Alright, yoi. Time for a new shift."

The First mate called thirty names from all divisions, telling them their task for the next couple of hours. "From the intel I've gathered and our navigators, this storm is far from over so be extra careful while on deck," the sixteenth division's commander added. All the men nodded and the bell rang once again. The galley's double doors were opened widely and the pirates went out on deck to find and relieve their fellow crewmates.

Moments after, worn out pirates came into the galley, shivering, soaking wet. A loud crack was heard along with a streak of lightening as the galley's doors were closed. A violent rocking sent the standing pirates to the floor with displeased grunts. Someone sneezed and that was all it took for the entire crew to burst out laughing. The captain and commanders smiled indulgently, more than aware of the excruciating rhythm that was weighing down on their family members, exhausting them. Whoever pretended that a pirate's life was an easy one surely never had set sails themselves.

"Commander Izo! Commander Marco! Do you have any news? Will this be over soon?" said a blond man while standing up. All his brothers around him threw hopeful looks at their commanders.

"We're maintaining our course and advancing, slower than expected but still. We might get out of it by tomorrow morning, yoi." Sighs met Marco's declaration and all the pirates scattered across the galley.

"Brrr, I wish we had gone on submarine mode for this one..."

"Don't be dumb Alrik!" a man of the eighth division intervened while drying his bare chest with a towel. "It was too fast, we weren't ready for it! Manoeuvering and coating the ship in those conditions would have been dangerous. Thank the Moby and its Adam wood or we would have capsized a couple times already!"

"That's right!" another member of the eighth division said. "Just let us do what we do best, taking care of this ship!" He clasped both their shoulders, grinning, before moving away, to the drinks the fourth division had just brought.

Everyone settled down, finding what they needed or joining their comrades' banter and the music went on, slightly changing. Izo and Marco were doing a quick headcount to be sure no one from the previous shift was missing when Haruta came closer, concern clear in his eyes. "Where's Roby?"  
"Roby?" Izo frowned as Marco rustled the papers he had in hand.

"Alrick! Where's Roby?" Haruta yelled at the crowd.

"I don't know, Commander. He was securing weapons in the armoury with me but we got separated when we moved back here. I'm sure he's fine somewhere!"

"And how would you know that?" the young man snapped.

"Calm down Haruta, I'll go check in the armoury," Vista said, a soothing hand on his shoulder, but the young man freed himself brusquely.

"No! You don't leave a fucking crewmate behind!" he shouted again, pointing a finger in Alrick's direction. "I'll go. I'll use our tunnels, it'll be quicker." As he said so he went to the back of the galley, near the chef's counter and opened a hatchway before disappearing through it. A few moments later, he resurfaced in the mess hall. "Shit! The tunnels are flooded. Namur should be checking for a breach."

Worry was clear on his strained features and Vista intervened again. "It's alright. I'm secured, I'll cross the deck and go check."

"No!" The music stopped. The twelfth commander ran to the door.

"Haruta..." Izo warned, throwing a look at their father who was overseeing it silently. Feeling something was off, he had decided not to step in the argument and to trust his sons to work it out instead. Marco was as speechless, stunned by Haruta's outburst. They all knew the young man wasn't fond of storms and very protective of his division's members but he had never been one to act that recklessly as a commander. Those excruciating days were probably tearing his patience and common sense apart.

Being called, the man stopped and looked at Izo, face pale but eyes shining fiercely. "He is in my division. It's _my_ responsibility. What if he's hanging on a rope somewhere outside in this mess? I can't leave him behind. I won't!" And he exited the galley.

"Haruta, wait!" Vista shouted, following him through the door, a rope secured around him and another one in his hand for his daredevil brother.

He was met with utter chaos. The roaring thunder was covering the sound of the strong waves crashing against the hull. The ship rocked and the man stood his ground, a hand firmly keeping his top hat on his head.

A few meter from him was the small shape of Haruta, hunched, trying to get back to the galley, gaining ground with difficulty. The young commander had underestimated that raging storm. A rookie's mistake.

The ship rocked again and he lost his balance before being sent crashing into the railing. Dread filled Vista before he ran to his brother. Righting himself with one hand gripping the wood, Haruta made a step toward him but was stopped by his scarf, caught in a splinter of the guardrail.

"Come on!" Vista all but shouted to overcome the thunder's sound.

"Wait it's stuck!" He tried frantically to free himself without damaging his scarf, to no avail. Vista approached closer and glanced at the fabric. "We have to cut it!"

"N-no!"

He ignored the panicked tone of his brother and shouted again. "That's the only option!"

And before he could protest any further, a wave rolled over the ship and Haruta was thrown overboard, ripping his scarf up.

"Man overboard!" Vista ran to the galley, hollering, along with Namur's name.

* * *

The cold water shocked him, making him unable to catch his breath. He remembered how he hated that. The cold seeping through his bones, sucking his warmth away. He panicked, there was no light, the moon wasn't shining through the heavy clouds. The seawater was stinging his eyes. It reminded him of... _No!_ He flailed but he couldn't tell whether he was going back to the surface or plunging deeper and deeper in the depths of this dark and unwelcoming sea. Feeling the lack of oxygen, his movements became slower, sluggish, and he gave in to the darkness.

* * *

He regained consciousness when air was abruptly forced through his lungs and rolled on his side, coughing water, throat raw and eyes burning from salt and tears. He gasped for air, feeling relieved and exhausted. Sobs mixed with his air intakes as he tried to speak.

A warm hand gently moved aside the wet hair sticking to his forehead. "Easy there! Take your time. Breathe." He recognized Jillian's voice.

"Shun!" Haruta muttered incoherently, shivering.

"He's in shock. I need a blanket! And some oxygen." A nurse brought her one as many pirates in the galley were asked to step back to give them space. Marco helped sat Haruta up as Jill wrapped him in the cover, before sitting behind him and taking him in her arms.

"Haruta. Hey, it's okay. It's over. We got you. You're safe now," she repeated several times soothingly, before placing a mask on his face. "This is oxygen. All you have to do is breathe, okay? Focus on your breathing. In and out. Like that. Alright. There..."

She moved a bit to be more comfortable on the floor and Haruta seemed to calm down, slowly regaining consciousness. A few moments later, he tried to speak and she pulled the mask off.

"R-roby?"

"We found him, yoi. He was showering." The young commander sighed in relief, resting his head against Jill's shoulder.

"How are you feeling, son?" Whitebeard asked from his seat, concerned.

"Stupid." Haruta laughed sadly before straightening up and slightly moving away from Jill who let him go. "I'm sorry for worrying you. I think I-I lost it. Thanks for rescuing me." He leaned his head and wiped with his hands the tears that were threatening to fall.

"Anytime." Namur said, a small smile on his face. "I'll go check the breach you found in the tunnels."

Jillian and the nurses were cleaning the spot and everyone now reassured got back to what they were previously doing, cards being shuffled, mugs emptied and voices ringing anew. Only the commanders lingered around Haruta, Marco and Izo whispering, preparing the next shift.

Vista came near and kneeled, offering him something. "There, little brother. You lost it." He had caught his scarf in mid-air before it could disappear in the night.

"Th-thanks!" Haruta exclaimed before displaying it, and his face fell, hands trembling. "Oh no. It's torn." The fabric was indeed ripped into two pieces merely remaining together by a few threads.

Distress evident in his eyes, he stood up, discarding the blanket. He didn't care feeling cold and being wet. His scarf was all that mattered.

"Izo?" he asked shyly, approaching the commander, showing him the tear. "C-can you sew it back together p-please?"

He was met with a smile as the man's eyes rose from the papers he had in hand. "Of course I can, but not before the fabric is dry. We'll have to wait a bit." Haruta held a protest back and withdrew to a corner of the galley, not before Jill put another dry blanket on his shoulders, asking him to take it easy and rest. He understood. He clutched his damaged scarf. He really wanted it repaired as soon as possible but he wasn't alone in here and there were things more important than an old piece of rag. But it was _his_ old piece of rag. One of his most precious belongings. That he had been unable to keep intact because of his own foolishness.

He held back his tears as he brought his knees up to his chest, clutching his scarf tighter. An undreamt of lifeline.

That sight nearly broke Vista's heart. Haruta was one of the most joyous members of their crew, always ready to play with his brothers, prank someone or play some music to brighten their day. Seeing him so downcast... Well, they knew this scarf was important to him, a gift from a dear friend, but now it felt like there had more to it than it seemed in the first place. And he couldn't stand seeing one of his brothers suffering.

"We need to do something for him," he finally said, looking at Izo and Marco, before looking back at their smallest brother.

"I'll sew it, I just need the scarf to be—" The sixteenth commander stopped himself mid-sentence. Ace was drawing closer to Haruta and sat next to him on the bench.

"I can dry it if you want," he offered, not beating around the bush.

Haruta gave him a cautious and surprised look. "You don't have to." He knew how the teen hated to be used as a personal heater.

"I know, but I _want_ to. I won't burn it I promise." He sported a serious expression, one they had rarely seen him with. He extended his hand, patiently waiting for Haruta to make up his mind.

"O-okay. But be careful." As he was about to give him his scarf, Ace put an hand on his, smiling.

"You'll do it. Wrap it around my arm. There. I'll raise my temperature and it'll be dry in no time." He smiled reassuringly, keeping the first part of the scarf on his warm arm with extra care. It produced a bit of steam and a few minutes later, it was dry. He carefully untied the scarf, before wrapping the second end around his arm. "See?" He smiled gently again, and when he was done he handed it over to Haruta who was now clutching at a dry scarf.

"Thanks, Ace."

"No problem."

The man looked expectantly up to Izo, who threw a look to Marco. "Can I...?" he wondered.

"Sure, go ahead. I can take it from there, yoi."

"Thank you. Come on Haruta. Let's go to my room."

He stood up and joined his brother, exiting the galley through a door leading to the insides of the Moby. They were walking along the galley's corridor to the Commanders' Quarters, crossing the kitchen's door, when someone called out to them. Thatch emerged from the kitchen, a mug of hot chocolate in hand. "There, bro. Don't worry okay? Izo will fix it in no time." He smiled, patting his brother's head after handing him his mug. If he had put an extra dose of marshmallow in the chocolate, he didn't say anything.

Lights flickered and they resumed their walk, heading to Izo's room. The ship swayed a few times before they reached the door. Izo closed it behind them with a sigh, glad everything was still in place. "I can't believe it's almost the fourth day of storm."

"I hate it," Haruta replied as he sat on the bed, waiting for Izo to take his sewing kit out of his wardrobe. When he did, he sat at his desk to fetch the tools he needed.

"Are you cold?" he wondered, looking in his direction only to see him nod. "Extra blanket under the bed. Make yourself cozy." Izo waited for him to settle, carefully putting a long white thread through the eye of a needle.

"Why does it bother you so much? I believe we've seen worse..." He didn't look at the young commander this time, hearing him fiddle with his scarf.

"I... It's wet, cold and grey. It feels like it will never end, that we will forever be sailing doing shifts and being confined inside. And that rhythm is really exhausting our family, each day increasing the risk of losing someone because of inattention or negligence."

Izo hid a fond smile at hearing how Haruta cared about them, yet his declaration somehow hurt his commander's pride. "We're not careless. We couldn't have a better system to prevent major problems while still running the ship. And we always check on everyone."

"I know. And I didn't meant it that way. We're doing all we can to avoid any loss, but... The sooner we get out of this, the better. Because, sometimes it's not enough. You're extra careful, making sure everything is alright and mere seconds later, everything's upside down... What you feared the most has happened and you can't do anything to right this wrong."

The bell announcing a new shift rang and Izo hummed, standing before sitting next to Haruta on his bed, making himself comfortable. He extended his hand. "May I?"

Haruta gave him his scarf, almost reluctantly, and nursed his steaming mug instead. The cross-dresser examined the fabric cautiously and nodded, before starting to work. Haruta couldn't supress a flinch when he separated the two pieces of material with his scissors. As Vista had voiced it, this scarf mattered much more to Haruta than what they had thought. And he didn't know why but he believed it to be closely related to what had happened earlier.

He had been as stunned as Marco and _Oyaji_ by Haruta's reaction. Because, for sure the commander could be childish and stubborn, but he generally knew better than to act without thinking it through, especially when it involved the security of his men. But this rage and this distress he had shown... He hadn't recognized him for a second, before realizing what was happening and trying to stop him.

So he wondered, "Is that why you acted so recklessly? You were afraid to lose one of our brothers?" His eyes fixed on the back and forth of his sewing needle, he only heard Haruta's sharp intake of breath before his voice rang in the room, unsure.

"It's... Yeah... I-I can't really explain it, even to myself. That storm, Roby missing and the tiredness. It reminded me of... _things_. I was like overwhelmed and... I-I snapped."

Izo hummed again, feeling his brother's restlessness. He decided to give him time to gather himself and to share whatever was desperately swirling in his mind if he felt like it. And he knew he would.

Soon enough, Haruta talked, twirling the mug in his hand. "Do you remember how I joined the crew?"

"Of course I do." Izo smiled. When it seemed like Haruta wouldn't pick up on that, he went on. "A fierce storm had broken the masts of your boat and you and your crew were drifting, helpless, before we crossed your path. You all looked so lost and desperate, dehydrated even... We took you on board, treating you and offering to take you to the next island we were coming alongside. Most of your former crewmates agreed, but you... You all had some time to get to know us, and when _Oyaji_ offered, you decided to stay, to join us. You left them at the island, but before parting, that girl..."

"Asuna." A whisper.

"Asuna gave you her scarf." He shook the fabric slightly. Haruta nodded.

"Yeah, that's what most of you know. But I lied." He looked grimly at the content of his cup. "It wasn't Asuna's scarf, just like it wasn't really _my_ crew. Well, not at first." His eyes went back to Izo's hands, never leaving his sight long. Noticing they had stopped their work, he looked at his brother's face and saw his surprise.

"There's never been a right time, you know! I'm not as open-hearted as the rest of you." He chuckled, ill at ease, rubbing his right shoulder with his hand. "I guess it's been too long now and it resurfaced somehow."

Understanding Haruta needed this time to get rid of some of his sorrow, Izo regained his composure, softened his features but slowed his repairs. It wouldn't do any good to him to cut this moment short by finishing early.

"I was an only child and with my parents we often moved from island to island because of their work. But one day, they never came back. Shipwreck or something... I was left with debts as their only legacy, forced to sell everything I had. I was twelve but I didn't want to go to an orphanage, so I fled. I was living on the streets for a couple months, trying to fend for myself, when I met Shun. He was seventeen." He paused and smiled. "I still don't know why... What he saw in me that... But he brought me to his house, some sort of shack. That's where I met Asuna and the rest of the group –fifteen at most –, and we started helping each other. He taught me violin and swordsmanship."

Izo gently smoothed the fabric in his hands. Most of the time he wasn't directly looking at his younger brother, giving him some sort of privacy to allow him to pour his heart out without feeling scrutinized. Telling and being listened to was hard enough for him, Izo knew that.

"We were some sort of gang, 'street rats' they called us. We robbed and fought and did what we had to do in order to survive. Even though it wasn't pretty... But Shun grew tired of living each day as a fight and he came with the idea of going away. He had always been fascinated by what the merchants brought back from their trips and wanted to see those places, to travel the world. It appealed to most of us, and soon we gathered everything we had, robbed what we were lacking of and we bought a small boat."

He paused and drank from his cooling mug. The sixteenth commander still slowly working, clicked his tongue before removing the thimble from his finger, muttering, "Better."

"We set sail and it was... A bright new life! Well, for them. They were so happy, so excited and so enthusiastic. I remember the parties we threw to celebrate our freedom and their smiles. I was only fourteen but I was more guarded, fully aware of all the dangers we could encounter and not feeling that well on the sea. But the happiness of those I had come to see as my closest and dearest friends was my reward. Shun was nineteen and a great leader, a wonderful captain. Asuna was eighteen and doing her best as each and every one of us. We sailed smoothly for a bit more than two years. Oh there had been storms and fights and all but we did well. We learned a lot. Shun relied more on me and I even came to enjoy this trip and the discoveries we made on each island we stopped by. I relaxed and it happened: the worst storm we ever had to deal with."

He took a breath. The ship's sporadic rocking along with the wood creaking were the only hints the storm was still raging on. "We weren't as ready as we should have been but we reacted quickly. Securing ropes around us and to the ship to prevent accidents... But with this strong headwind slowing our ship, we needed to furl the sails and our ropes weren't long enough, so Shun... Shun untied himself. Our schooner had two masts with two sails on each. Two crewmates went to the mizzen mast when Shun was climbing the rigging of our mainmast. I knew he couldn't furl those sails alone so I untied myself in turn and followed him. It was... One of the scariest things I've ever done."

He gulped down the rest of his chocolate before standing up to put it on Izo's desk, where it wouldn't fall with the ship's swaying. Rubbing his hands together he sat back down, cross-legged, facing Izo a bit more. His hair was almost dry now, tousled and curling. 

"Despite the wind, the rain and the waves lashing on us it went... Surprisingly well! But once we were back on deck and tying ourselves, waves grew stronger and some crashed over us. I just had time to wind the rope around my wrist and grip it firmly before I was shaken like a mere doll. But Shun had no such luck. He was thrown overboard."

He stopped to scratch at his right wrist, like he still could feel the burning abrasion the rope had left in its wake.

"We were just humans, we didn't have anyone like Namur in our crew, so we tried to rescue him the best we could. I finally jumped into the water against everyone's advice. They secured me nonetheless. It felt like it took ages before I was able to reach him. I caught him eventually and they pulled us back on deck but..." He stopped again, his voice cracking.

"But it was too late, right?" Izo continued. The lack of answer was an answer in itself. A chilling one. But his voice, hoarse, rang again.

"We were devastated. Asuna was... Shun and her were together, maybe even before we set sails, but sailing drew them closer. There's no word to describe how she must have felt. He was our captain, our friend. She..." He cleared his throat and Izo's hand pressed his shoulder, comforting. "I don't know how but we got out of that storm and found an island where we gave Shun a proper burial and took time to grieve. And... Before letting him go, she took his scarf." And his eyes fell on Izo's lap where said scarf was negligently nestled. The man hid his shock, now fully understanding how important it was for Haruta. A thoughtful silence stretched.

"And after that?" he asked.

"We doubted. We didn't know what to do. Should we continue our journey or...? But we had nowhere to go back to. So we decided to sail and find a place to settle down. Our crew needed a leader and I took that charge after Asuna asked me to. We sailed for four or five months before encountering the storm that broke our masts. You said we looked desperate. We were. Even more than you thought. I vividly remember Asuna babbling deliriously due to food deprivation. Talking about meeting Shun soon..." He shivered.

"And then, Pops took us to an island and offered us to be part of his family. They didn't voiced it but I knew that many of us had already found the family they needed and even Whitebeard's crew couldn't rival that. But I... When they just set sail to follow Shun and travel a bit, I was finally hearing the call of the sea. And Asuna understood. I believe she saw something more to it. And that's why she gave me Shun's scarf. So you can fulfill his dream and always be remembered of us, she said. Of the love we shared and will share even though we're apart." He wiped his eyes. "And now I feel so stupid. Losing it for fear of something that might be happening, endangering myself and my brothers even." He sniffed. "I mean, it's been eight years already and look at me! Still clinging to that old piece of rag as if it was a holy thing!"

Izo sighed. "Don't be so hard on yourself. You value as important what you deem right to be." When he saw the young man was about to respond, he beat him to it. "And it's totally fine! We all have our little things, trust me. Take Marco and his belt, Ace and his hat, Vista and his sword or me and my traditional clothes. You've got a scarf, so what? We all value different things differently and it's fine. But what's even better is... When we know what those things that matter so much to someone close to us are! So we can try and protect them as our own." And with those words, he wrapped the repaired scarf around Haruta's neck.

That was when his brother's face fell and he broke down in tears. He tried to muffle his sobs with his hand and it was more than Izo could withstand.

"Oh, come here," he said as he took Haruta in his arms, hugging him tight as he felt the boy trembling.

"I was s-so s-scared!" he stuttered as he clung to the back of Izo's kimono.

"I know. I know. But it's over now."

It took several minutes before Haruta was able to gather himself and get away from his brother's embrace, softly apologizing in the process. Izo didn't even bother picking him up on it, knowing Haruta didn't like proximity much. Not when he felt weak anyway.

He wiped his face with his sleeves. "Ah gosh..." He sighed, looking at the wooden floor, before adding derisively, "Considering the number of times Marco threw us overboard for pranking him, I should be desensitized by now! But that... I really _hate_ it. The cold, the dark, the loneliness... I can't help but feel like it was what Shun went through... I can relate to that helplessness..." He looked briefly at Izo. "Even though I knew Namur would come and help me. He always do."

* * *

They had fallen in a comfortable silence, both mulling over what had just been unveiled, when Haruta snickered, fiddling with his scarf. The discarded blankets had fallen on the floor in a reassuring heap. "There's something... When Asuna left, she gave me that but... She also told me she was pregnant. She found out through Jillian." He smiled, eyes shining. "Several months later, Haru was born."

" _Haru_ , as in spring?"

"As in clear weather. Asuna sent me a letter not long after she gave birth, telling me I had a niece now." Izo smiled, glad for his brother, thankful even, because he had learned through the years how much having a family meant to him.

A bell rang again, telling the two commanders it was time for another shift.

"Already?" Izo wondered, and Haruta smiled at the weary tone of his brother as he stood up, cleaning and putting his sewing kit back in his wardrobe.

"Yeah, we should go back there," he said, enjoying the sweet and calm atmosphere that was filing Izo's room. He stood, picking up the blankets. He began to fold them and looked around him. It was pared-down, yet it didn't look like any other room: the wall facing the wardrobe was a fresco Izo was painting. He had painted the whole wall in white a few years ago, like a blank canvas, and drew on it occasionally since, painting inside frames he imagined of various sizes. It looked like an eclectic gallery but in all that, Whitebeard's crest was a recurring pattern, along with strange symbols Haruta didn't know of. He assumed it was Izo's mother tongue. It looked stunning, unique and soothing. And he felt lucky to be able to admire it. Only few people were allowed in Izo's quarters. The man enjoyed his privacy.

"Only if you feel okay," said man said, stirring him from his contemplation.

"I'm fine. Thanks to you Izo."

"Ah nonsense!" Haruta chuckled again. His brother never knew how to deal with sincere compliments.

"Come on, Izo, let's join our brothers." Blanket under his arm, he took his mug from the desk and exited the room, Izo behind him. As they walked side by side, the calm receded, met by noises of life: the clinking from the kitchen, the laughs from the galley...

Haruta felt like he was slowly but steadily walking out of some strange state of confusion. He was beginning to understand, to comprehend the fears that had overwhelmed him. The fear of losing a brother, the fear of losing his scarf and the fear for his own life had entangled themselves so tightly that he couldn't really tell what had led to what. He only knew it had been too much, and well, all things considered, he didn't feel like dwelling on that now. Talking to Izo had done him good. He felt more relaxed, having told to someone he trusted what had been plaguing his mind intermittently.

They pushed the galley's door open and were met with warmth. Several heads turned to smile at the young commander and he smiled in return. Marco came closer, looking busy, with more papers in hand than the last time they saw him.

"Izo, your division brought me some news, yoi." He gave the man some papers. "It will be over soon, they said. Three hours, or maybe less."

Haruta sighed in relief as his brothers went by to the commanders' table to examine those news. He took that chance to behold the galley. Many were drinking and eating, chatting or playing cards. The newcomers of the previous shift had already been taken care of. Jillian and some of her nurses were taking a break. He noticed his musicians were chatting casually, instruments in hand, in the corner where the piano was.

Discarding his blanket on a bench, he went to the kitchen's counter and left his empty mug. He winked at Thatch before heading for the musicians' corner. Walking past the commander's table, he smiled at his father and captain.

He clapped his hands to draw his men's attention, and in a swift movement, he jumped on the grand piano, ruffling his hair. "Well, well, what's with those faces people hm?!" he said loudly looking to his men and to the room.

"We're lacking music, here, aren't we?" Cheers and applause ensued. He went down the piano and behind it to fetch an instrument case. Opening it, he pulled his violin out along with some scores. He picked one out of them all and gave it to the designated pianist with a small grateful nod.

After tuning their instruments, he climbed back on the piano. "We have three hours to go. So let's enjoy them to their fullest!"

When the noise decreased, his face fell, concentration clear on his features, and he began playing. The violin rang in the air, _soli_ met by the discreet piano at the end of his measures. The galley's acoustics seemed surprisingly perfect for such music. A stunned silence filled his ears and he smiled.

His siblings weren't used to see him like this, to hear him playing folk, and that stripped. They probably thought he was more of a piano guy. And it wasn't completely untrue. But violin was his favourite instrument when he wanted to say or share things. And by the gods, he hadn't done that in a long time!

It was a music piece Shun had taught him years ago. He had spent hours learning it, playing it over and over again. They added the piano later to give it some depth, some support, and because _duo_ were funnier to play. Called _The Sailor's Bonnet_ , he had come to see it as the perfect soundtrack to his life.

Simple, slowly increasing yet exuberant at times, you could feel the passion in this tune. It spoke of shadows creeping around and light not that far away. He knew it had a strength that had bewitched many, a melodic power able to speak for itself, to tell a story of its own.

It was like a tide, the ebb and flow of the sea, of life, that kept growing toward a liberating _crescendo_. Melancholy at first, like the weariness of a journey, the empty space left inside you by what you left behind, whatever it was. The notes of the piano like a metronome, cadencing time, setting the tempo of the story, grounding you. It told of islands hidden by the fog, of farewells, of wishes made upon the brightest stars, of warm winds carrying longstanding promises.

The bow glided on the strings, following a well-known rhythm. Soon enough the melody changed, becoming slightly livelier. The piano followed suit and Haruta smiled to his partner.

He liked this part, telling about light and hope and love, depicting some cosy home somewhere, a fire brightly burning in the hearth. Sun shining after hours of darkness and people finally being reunited, familiar faces enlarged by sparkling smiles.

Resting his chin against the glazed wood, he enjoyed the vibrations. Music was such a curious thing. Telling with no words, what a wonderful magic!

It transcended him. He knew it by heart and could feel the excitement pulsating in his veins as he foresaw the _crescendo_ and future burst of music, of joy. His feet started to stomp the piano in a regular beat, soon met by his musicians and brothers. The atmosphere changed in the blink of an eye, warming up.

And as predicted, after the mellowness came the freedom, the utter glee. Plunging the room in swirls of happiness, the music grew louder, fiercer, even more passionate. Haruta had closed his eyes, carried away.

There it was, the relief! This warm feeling bubbling in his chest... Love, hope, acceptance and completeness all at once! Those moments always filled him with this absolute certainty that he was born to be here, to live that.

And it felt amazing, knowing you were right where you needed to be.

As the melody reached its end, when the last notes finally scattered in thin air, Haruta hoped he had convoyed all that. Hearing nothing but silence, he opened his eyes and by the look on most of his crewmates' faces, he knew he had succeeded.

His fiddle in hand, he chuckled nervously before bowing slightly in front of his still stunned brothers. It took another moment before applause, shouts and whistles were heard. He thought he heard Ace scream something.

Izo gripped the papers he had in hands tighter to hide their trembling. What Haruta had just done... He didn't know how but he heard it all, the struggle, the longing, the promises, the joy... And it was amazing. Heart-warming. His brother had showed them a part of his soul today and what a delicate yet strong part it was!

"See?" he said voice slightly shaking before regaining his composure. "I told you he would be fine."

"Right," Vista answered, voice flat. All the commanders around him chuckled.

Haruta put his violin back in his case, not before gently patting it, thanking it for that great moment. Standing back up he shouted. "Come on comrades, it's not over yet!" And with a small gesture, another music started.

Pirates cheered and resumed what they were previously doing as the fourth division was bringing new trays of steaming food.

A relaxed atmosphere settled again and Whitebeard smiled knowingly, proud of his sons and glad as always to see them working through the hardships coming their way, be it from the present or from the past.

**Author's Note:**

> First published on FF.net in 2018. Now edited and cross-posted here! Here's my take at Haruta's backstory. And a way to dump some headcanons, have more nakama-fluff and more Izo hehe.  
> The title of this story is the same as [ LilianaRosana's story](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8338291/chapters/19100641). If you have time and haven't read it already, just go read the heart-breaking yet enthralling story of my _compatriote_ writer!  
> A couple months ago, [ I found a longer live version of The Sailor's Bonnet](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-w7cjXAtpJ4) and it's ten absolutely amazing minutes. The passion and skills and talent these musicians have, the way the audience is listening and/or participating. Irish music to its finest. I saw them in Paris in 2019 and at times it felt like Haruta was on stage with them. Blissfully surreal. <3
> 
> Thanks for dropping by, and thanks to the whole lot of you for the welcome you have given Sparks these past few weeks! **Feedback is cherished here so don't be shy.**
> 
> Take care,  
> Lily.


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